


A Lucky Coincidence

by brioscotty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brioscotty/pseuds/brioscotty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And you happen to have found the one bar in all of New York..."</p><p>"A lucky coincidence."</p><p>Maria gets an unexpected visitor just before Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lucky Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom and the first time I've written anything Mature-rated in a while. Mistakes are all mine. Thanks to Ilona and Anna for their support with this.

A drink is already waiting for her when she slides onto the stool she's occupied every night for the three weeks she's been in New York. Ordinarily the familiarity of the action would cause her to flee the scene but she's had a long day and the only thing on her mind is the contents of the glass in front of her and the decent night's sleep that it'll afford her.

Though she's not aware that's she's sent any sort of signal, the bartender attempts to flirt with her. Wondering if it’s genuine or a complete dearth of options – she’s the bar’s youngest patron by at least twenty years - she firmly rebuffs him. After all, her time in New York isn't permanent and, though she could probably use the stress release, Maria Hill has a rule about one night stands (especially after the last disaster).

When the bartender gives up and slinks off to the other end of the bar, she turns her attention to the phone on the bar top next to her glass. It remains silent, which isn’t anything unusual. It’s remained largely silent for the past few months. Only a few people have the number and she doubts that it'll ring anytime soon but that doesn't mean she hasn't given up hope that it never will.

"Is this seat taken?"

Maria shakes her head, not glancing up from the phone, not until the voice properly registers in her brain and she nearly rockets off her stool because she  _knows_  that voice.

Her gaze shoots up and she gapes for a few seconds before wordlessly gesturing for the person to sit down. She considers question after question while the other woman gets the attention of the bartender, ordering two of 'whatever she's having', pointing to the barely touched drink sitting next to Maria.

"What are you doing here?" Maria finally splutters, picking a question at random after her former colleague has turned her attention away from the bartender. “You’ve been off the grid for months.”

"Hard to stay in the public eye when a lot of people want you dead. And I’m here to do a little sight-seeing," smirks Natasha, sliding her gloves and hat off before brushing the remnants of a snow shower from her shoulders. Natasha’s hair is shorter and a much more muted shade of red than Maria remembers.

"Sight-seeing," she parrots in disbelief. "And you happen to have found the one bar in all of New York..."

"A lucky coincidence," Natasha interrupts with a shrug and a smile that suggests it’s anything but. She makes a face as she takes her first sip of the drink. “That’s disgusting.”

"Stark sent you," Maria states, reaching for her own glass, a mirthless chuckle falling from her lips. Thinking of all the things she’ll call her boss during their next conversation, she watches Natasha order another drink, something 'less vile', and takes a long sip of her whiskey. “I knew he was keeping an eye on me.”

"Tony has no jurisdiction over my movements," Natasha drawls, happier with the glass of clear liquid that’s set in front of her. "I happened to stop by Stark Industries en route to New York and had lunch with Pepper. We were overdue for some girl talk."

"So Pepper sent you?" Maria frowns, her voice softening at the thought of the woman she’s become fast friends with.

"No-one  _sent_  me. I'm merely taking a short vacation and asked Pepper who might be best placed to show me around since the city no longer resembles the rubble-strewn war zone I remember from a few years ago."

Maria considers this, swilling the contents of her glass clockwise.

"You couldn't have picked somewhere a little hotter? With a beach?” Maria glances up again, a smile crossing her lips. “New York in the middle of winter isn’t exactly my idea of a vacation.”

Natasha glances around the bar before locking eyes with Maria again.

“This place isn’t exactly my idea of an Agent Hill hangout,” she points out. “But yet, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Maria repeats, lifting her glass to clink it softly against Natasha’s. “To be honest, proximity to my current residence plays a vital role in my choice of venue. Hanging out in bars was never really appealing to me. Y’know, before.”

“What changed?” Natasha asks but Maria shakes her head, a slightly more rueful smile playing on her features now.

“You don’t get to ask questions until you tell me why you’re here,” she says, draining her first drink and reaching for one of the glasses that Natasha edges in her direction.

“I want to go skating at Rockefeller,” the other woman shrugs, averting her gaze to an empty booth near the back of the bar. “Let’s go sit over there.” She gestures with a flick of her head before gracefully sliding off the stool and carrying her belongings to the table. Still unsure of what she’s getting herself into, Maria follows, a glass in each hand. She sits opposite Natasha and clasps her hands on top of the table.

Both women sit in silence for a few seconds before Natasha tilts her head to the side.

“You have a black eye,” she states, reaching over to brush the pad of her thumb below Maria’s right eye. “I didn’t notice before.”

“One of the new recruits got sloppy with a bokken at the end of training today.” Grimacing, Maria pulls back from Natasha’s touch. “I thought he was going to die of embarrassment. He was still apologising when he followed me out of the building and offered to take me to the hospital and everything. Ironically, I was only there to observe.”

“You’d never have let a newbie land a hit like that a few years ago,” Natasha smirks.

“He didn’t _land a hit_ , he was showing off, trying to impress one of the girls, and didn’t see me,” Maria insists. “There’s no way I’d ever have let you leave a mark like this. You did come close though, that one time.” A playful smile crosses her lips.

“That one time?” Natasha quirks an eyebrow. “That’s not how I remember it at all.”

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree then,” Maria shrugs. “You were definitely the most interesting recruit I had to ‘train’. There was very little I had to teach you.”

“You taught me enough,” Natasha counters, trying to shake away the memories of her first few weeks with S.H.I.E.L.D., how utterly broken she’d been at times, how everyone had shrunk away from her, as though they were expecting her to slit their throats or put a few bullets in them in the middle of a training room or the cafeteria.

Agent Hill had been the first to spar with her in the gym, the first to stand side-by-side at the firing range and one of the first people ever to lay her out, breathless after a hit straight to the abdomen followed by two strikes that had come from nowhere.

“Again,” Hill had commanded, offering a hand to Natasha as the recruit had gasped for breath on the training mat. “And don’t go easy on me this time, Romanoff. You’re doing neither of us favours by showing restraint.”

“Restraint? Do you know what happens when I _don’t_ show restraint?” Natasha had spit out, a hint of her native accent edging into her voice as her eyes had flashed darkly. She had taken a shaky breath before grabbing Maria’s hand and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

“Show me,” Maria had smirked, wiping the sweat from her brow before falling into a well-practised stance.

The sound of a couple of glasses sliding across the table brings Natasha back to the present. Maria eyes her carefully as she drops back down into the booth.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, her face falling into a frown.

“Yeah,” Natasha says, brightening as she reaches for her next drink and deciding to change the subject radically. “So, Christmas is in a few days. Are you staying in New York?”

Maria gapes at her, glass halfway between her mouth and the table. It’s by far the most casual question Natasha has ever asked her.

“Humour me?” Natasha says, almost pleadingly. “Lunch with Pepper was the first civil conversation I’ve had in months. I never thought I’d miss inane small talk but something about…” She gestures to Maria and then vaguely around the bar. “About being in the team.” Natasha looks down at the table, splaying her fingers against the woodwork. “Judging by the way you were staring at your phone when I walked into the bar, I’m not the only one who misses it.”

Maria doesn’t respond for a few seconds. She lets her shoulders slump and exhales a deep sigh.

“It was my life.”

Natasha nods, silently downing the rest of her drink.

“Do you want another?” she asks, already halfway out of her seat but Maria shakes her head. Natasha lowers herself back into the booth, carefully selecting the wording of her next question.  “How about we get out of here?”

There’s intention behind Natasha’s question, a twinkle in her eye that Maria isn’t sure she wants to figure out but she finds herself nodding anyway, shrugging her arms into her coat and tailing the other woman out of the bar. It’s started snowing again, heavier than it had been when she’d arrived at the bar and she fumbles with her coat buttons in her haste to wrap up against the cold.

“Here,” Natasha says, nimbly fastening the buttons and taking a step back, knowing that Maria has rules about personal space. Natasha almost grins when she realises that pretty much everything that has happened so far this evening goes against most of Maria’s rulebook.

Bolstered by the alcohol charging through her system, Maria takes a deep breath.

“My apartment is a couple of blocks away,” she says, letting as little emotion as possible into her speech. “But you must know that already because why else would you be here.” Natasha nods, folding her arms across her chest. “Do you want to…?”

Maria tails off, because she _never_ does this; fraternisation with colleagues is something she’s always avoided. But Natasha isn’t Agent Romanoff now. She’s a friend…? More than an acquaintance. It’s impossible for two people with such a shared past to just be acquaintances. Friend feels like the wrong word; it’s not as though they’re going to spend hours gossiping over coffee or trailing the streets of the city shopping.

“You’re really over-thinking this,” Natasha breaks into Maria’s concentration by waving a hand in front of her face.

“It’s the alcohol,” Maria murmurs, feeling a blush rise up from her chest to her cheeks, thankful that the street isn’t particularly well-lit.

“Well, that’s a lie,” Natasha snorts. “You’re probably the least spontaneous person I know. I’m not sure I’ve met anyone who thinks things through as much as you do. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, by the way…”

“Natasha,” Maria says, a little more harshly than she means to causing the other woman to shut up immediately. “Do you want to come home with me?” Then she blanches. “I mean, unless you have somewhere else to go.” She exhales and takes a shaky step backwards, wondering if she could make this more awkward. “You’ve probably got a hotel room somewhere.”

“I don’t, actually,” Natasha says, biting down on her lip before chuckling slightly. “Come on.”

They set off, leaving fresh footprints in the snow, not saying a word. From a combination of the cold and the whiskey she’s ingested, Maria’s head feels like it’s been wrapped in cotton wool. The walk to her apartment feels like it takes much less time than usual and before she realises what’s happening, they’re inside, sliding off coats and avoiding eye contact with each other.

“Travelling light?” Maria asks, indicating the solitary bag Natasha has placed on the floor. She’d barely even noticed that Natasha had been carrying the backpack.

“Just for now,” Natasha replies, unwinding a scarf from around her neck and hanging it on the hook next to her coat. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here for. I have some things stored at Tony and Pepper’s place.”

“No immediate plans to run off to the other side of the world then,” Maria states, wandering towards the kitchen.

“Like I said, I’m sight-seeing,” Natasha grins, following after the other woman. The apartment is sparsely decorated but this doesn’t surprise Natasha in the slightest. Maria doesn’t strike her as the sort of person who would carry a lot of personal effects. As she leans against the kitchen counter, Natasha finds herself wondering if Maria has a house tucked away somewhere, packed to the rafters with old junk. The thought makes her smirk and Maria raises an eyebrow when she catches the look.

“I’m entertaining an alternate universe where you are a hoarder,” Natasha says causing Maria to laugh.

“This place is temporary,” Maria says, retrieving a couple of bottles from the fridge. “I leave in two days and I’m not sure what Stark has in store for me after the holidays. He’s forcing me to take a month off.” She hands over a bottle and gestures to the door that leads to the lounge.

“A month?!” Natasha asks, glancing over her shoulder at Maria who shrugs in response.

“Pepper found out that I haven’t really taken a break in a while,” Maria says. “Being Fury’s second-in-command didn’t exactly allow for a lot of vacation time. I’m not even sure what to do with a free weekend, let alone a whole month.”

“You’ll think of something,” Natasha reassures her.

“Because you’re the expert at relaxation?” Maria raises an eyebrow as she slouches down onto the couch, leaving Natasha standing in the middle of the room. “Do you want to tell me where you’ve been for the past few months?”

“How about some music?” Natasha says, making a beeline for the dock sitting on the windowsill, refusing to meet Maria’s gaze. Maria makes a face but doesn’t voice any objections. Fatigue is setting in and the ache beneath her eye hasn’t been dulled at all by the whiskey. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing for Christmas? Or do I have to torture it out of you?”

Natasha thumbs down the list of artists but turns when she hears Maria snort.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“Nothing,” Maria says, letting her head lull back, a grin firmly in place. She hears Natasha placing the iPod back onto the dock and a few faint chords drift from the speakers. When she raises her head again, Natasha is standing in front of her, reaching out her hand.

It takes a few moments for the action to fully register but when it does, Maria barks out a laugh in surprise.

“I don’t dance.”

“Something I can teach you then,” Natasha says, wrenching the half-empty bottle from Maria’s hand and placing it on the floor before tugging the other woman to her feet. “You can at least _try_.” Natasha humphs as Maria lets her arms go slack every time Natasha positions them.

“Fine,” Maria sighs, leaving one hand on Natasha’s waist. “Is this how you torture all your victims?”

“No actually,” Natasha muses. “There’s usually more begging for mercy, bones breaking, screaming. That sort of thing.” She shrugs and starts to move Maria around the lounge, slow shuffling steps that aren’t always in time with the music. “There’s always time for the first item on that list later.”

Floundering for any sort of casual response, Maria feels her cheeks redden and Natasha tightens her grasp on her hand before catching her gaze.

“If you’re amenable, that is,” Natasha adds in a soft murmur, somehow manoeuvring their bodies closer together. Maria merely lets her head drop onto Natasha’s shoulder and sighs. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you blush.”

“It’s not something that you should get used to,” Maria replies, composing herself enough to turn her head slightly to let her lips touch against Natasha’s neck. “And I’m not sure you should count on _me_ begging.”

Feeling a shiver run through Natasha, Maria feels relief despite the nervousness starting to bubble up inside her. Nervousness about what though? She’s _good_ at sex. Sure, it’s been a while, longer than she cares to think about, but she’s never received any complaints.

But this is Natasha. And Natasha is beautiful and strong and a goddamn superhero.

“What?” Natasha asks, a smirk in her voice. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Maria says hastily, squeezing her eyes shut as she berates herself internally. “Not a thing.”

“I could have sworn I heard the word ‘superhero’,” Natasha says, one hand running up the column of Maria’s spine until she’s stroking the back of her neck.

“Thinking aloud,” Maria mutters, blushing into Natasha’s shoulder and cursing everything inside her that keeps making her do that.

“I’m not a superhero,” Natasha says softly, winding her fingers into Maria’s hair. “I’m just Natasha. And we’re just dancing.”

Maria raises her head, bottom lip caught between her teeth, a subconscious action as her mind races away from her. Natasha’s gaze flicks down momentarily before meeting Maria’s again and both women swear they feel the air between them crackle in the moment before their lips meet. Natasha’s grasp immediately tightens around the locks of hair her fingers are entwined in, keeping them locked together.

Any notion of dancing flees both of their minds as Maria’s grip on Natasha’s waist stiffens and she propels them towards the closest wall, tugging at Natasha’s shirt, edging it up and over her head, momentarily breaking the kiss.

A low hiss from Natasha causes Maria to pull away in surprise, concern crossing her face as she pulls her hand away from the other woman’s abdomen.

“What’s wrong?” Maria murmurs, pushing her hair off her face before dropping her gaze. Her jaw drops as she takes in the array of bruises marring Natasha’s skin. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Natasha sighs, tipping Maria’s head up and leaning in for another kiss.

“Nothing? You’re literally black and blue,” Maria steps back from the other woman. “When did this happen?”

“A few days ago,” Natasha shrugs, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. “I’m still healing. I’m feeling a lot better than I did yesterday. Pepper got me checked out by their med team, nothing’s broken and after a few days R&R, I’ll be fine.”

“So this…” Maria gestures between them. “…is R&R?”

“You might have to go a little easy on me,” Natasha smiles, opening one eye to squint at Maria. “Now, are you done being all Agent Hill-y?”

“I’m not Agent anything anymore,” Maria says softly, stroking her fingertips over the bruises as she steps into Natasha again. “Come on.” She slips her hand into Natasha’s and guides her out of the lounge into the darkened corridor. Her heart is racing but she’s determined not to let it show.

While Maria closes the shades, Natasha takes a seat on the edge of the bed, marvelling at how impeccably neat everything is.

“Are you allergic to mess?” she enquires, leaning back on her elbows, grimacing at the slight pull of the muscles in her stomach.

“I travelled light when I came here,” Maria says, turning back to face her. “There isn’t much to leave lying around.” She kneels down in front of Natasha, untying her boots and sliding them off before reaching up to undo her belt, cursing the very slight shake of her hand. Natasha stays silent as she slides forward a little and raises her hips to let Maria tug her jeans down.

“Don’t,” Natasha says hoarsely when Maria frowns at the marks marring the pale skin in front of her. Maria rolls her eyes and pushes Natasha’s legs apart gently, letting her thumbs brush over a couple of the bruises. She drops a soft kisses to the most prominent of the marks before turning her gaze towards Natasha’s, who is regarding her intently from further up the bed, still resting on her elbows. “You can keep going.”

Maria’s lips return to the inside of Natasha’s thighs, planting kisses and eliciting a barely audible moan when she lets her teeth nip at the shorter woman’s skin. Reaching the apex of Natasha’s legs, Maria exhales unsteadily before letting her nose nudge against the fabric of Natasha’s panties.

“Off,” Maria mumbles, hands gripping the scrap of material and all but tearing it off in her haste to run her tongue over Natasha. Hands instantly curl in her hair as Maria trails her tongue through slick, wet folds and she feels a rush of heat at Natasha’s moan. With a surge of confidence, Maria flicks the tip of her tongue back and forth over Natasha’s clit before pulling back and instructing the other woman to move further up the bed.

Natasha complies immediately, settling against Maria’s pillows, watching as the brunette slides off her boots and trousers. 

“Better?” Natasha intones, raising an eyebrow as Maria kneels on the edge of the bed, slowly unbuttoning her shirt.

“Just evening things up a little,” Maria replies, balling the shirt up in her hands and tossing it in Natasha’s direction.

“We’ll need to work on your striptease skills,” the redhead grins. Maria pauses in her advance up the bed. “What?” Natasha asks.

“Nothing,” Maria says with a quick shake of her head. Natasha rolls her eyes in response. “I’m not sure I’m the striptease type,” Maria admits coyly.

“Which is why I will teach you _all_ you need to know,” Natasha says, beckoning Maria towards her. They meet in a kiss as their bodies meld together, Maria’s thigh jutting between Natasha’s legs and pressing against her centre. When Natasha’s hands cup Maria’s ass, the brunette responds by grinding her hips downwards and pulls out of the kiss.

“Maybe there are some things I can teach you,” she murmurs, letting her hips drop into another slow grind, pleased when Natasha rises to meet her.

“I hope so,” Natasha bites down on her bottom lip as she tries to swallow down a moan. “Just keep doing that.” Her grip on Maria tightens, nails pressing into skin causing the woman above her to falter in the steady rhythm she’d been building. Natasha slides a hand up Maria’s back and curls her fingers through the long, dark hair before bringing their lips together.

As the kiss intensifies, Maria’s thrusts become more forceful and Natasha finds herself gasping against the other woman’s lips.

“Touch me,” she groans, tearing her lips from Maria’s to push the brunette’s hand between their bodies. “Please.”

Trying to catch her breath, Maria complies, shuffling their bodies slightly so that her hand takes the place of her thigh. She captures Natasha’s lips once more as she pushes two fingers inside the woman beneath her, feeling heat rush all over her body as Natasha moans against her mouth. Maria thrusts slowly, enjoying the feel of Natasha’s body as it rises to meet hers and strong fingers, moving from her shoulders, down her back until the redhead is cupping her ass.

“Maria,” Natasha gasps out, eyes squeezing shut as Maria thrusts harder, pleased that the other woman has overcome whatever shyness she’d been experiencing earlier in the evening. Another moan falls from her lips when she feels teeth scrape against her neck before Maria’s tongue lathes over the marks. Another sharp thrust causes Natasha’s hips to jerk upwards and she cries out, gripping Maria’s flesh even tighter.

“Jesus,” Maria hisses, biting on her lip as the pain causes her vision to blur.

“Sorry,” Natasha exclaims, relaxing her grip, eyes wide as she takes in the look on Maria’s face.

“It’s okay,” Maria replies, ignoring the pulses of pain as she pushes her lips against Natasha’s, placating her concerned look. Maria’s thrusts return to a gentler pace, their hips grinding together and the heat building between them once more. Natasha murmurs against Maria’s lips, telling her good this feels, how close she is.

When Natasha tumbles over the edge, trembling around Maria’s fingers, fingernails scraping as lightly as possible down Maria’s back, she allows a smile to cross her lips. Maria’s forehead is pressed against her shoulder as the brunette tries to catch her breath.

“Seattle.”

The word breaks through Natasha’s hazy consciousness and she frowns up at the ceiling, pausing mid-stroke as her fingers travel along the back of Maria’s neck.

“You asked where I’m going for Christmas,” Maria says simply. “I’m not staying in New York. I fly to Seattle in two days.”

Natasha lets a grin pass over her lips and she resumes stroking, running her fingers in circles now.

“Colombia,” she says when she feels Maria’s lips press against her chest. “That’s where I’ve been. It’s _one_ of the places I’ve been.”

“Is that where the bruises came from?” Maria asks, raising a hand to brush over Natasha’s abdomen.

“I was outnumbered,” Natasha says softly. “And ambushed and they got lucky.” Maria is still deciding on how to respond when Natasha asks her next question. “Can I come?”

Maria raises her head and fixes Natasha with a look. She’s met with a smirk.

“To Seattle?” she finishes, an innocent look on her face.

Maria shifts so that she’s lying on her side, resting her head on her hand, and draws a blanket over both of them. When Natasha edges closer to her, _snuggling_ into her, Maria feels her heart-rate soar.

“Before you answer, maybe I should say something,” Natasha says, placing her hand over the one resting on top of her bruises. “Apart from spending the occasional Christmas with Barton, it’s not something I’ve ever had a reason to celebrate. After the past few months and the beating I survived, I figure I’m long overdue for a break. I want to spend some time doing _normal_ things. Like Christmas.”

"With me?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re much hotter than Barton,” Natasha admits, enjoying the bark of laughter she gets from Maria in return. “I _might_ have wheedled some information from Pepper…”

“I will shoot her when I get back to Los Angeles,” Maria grumbles, eyes closing in embarrassment as she recalls her last dinner date with Pepper, how the other woman had quizzed her relentlessly about her lovelife while they both drank a little too much wine.

“Bruce or Steve?” Pepper had asked, topping off Maria’s glass of wine and laughing at the grimace on her friend’s face. “Okay. Steve or Thor?” At Maria’s refusal to answer, she’d quirked an eyebrow and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Clint or Natasha?” Maria had choked on her sip of wine, turned crimson and that had given Pepper her answer.

Feeling Natasha’s lips pressing against her chin, Maria cracks one eye open.

"Christmas with a superhero,” Maria says contemplatively.

“Not a superhero,” Natasha argues, rolling Maria onto her back and pinning her shoulders to the mattress. “Just a disgraced SHIELD agent who wants to avoid Tony Stark or mac and cheese for Christmas dinner.”

“Wow, that’s sold it,” Maria says dryly, mouth falling open in a silent moan as Natasha’s hand slips between her legs.

“Maybe I should try a little harder,” Natasha murmurs, dipping her head to capture Maria’s lips with a smile.

“What if I’ve already made up my mind?” Maria asks, arching upwards, muscles aching in the best possible way as Natasha’s fingers move in tight circles against her.

“I really don’t think that’s going to make me stop,” Natasha muses. “Unless you want me to?” Grinning wickedly, she slows her movements.

“Enjoy your mac and cheese,” Maria huffs, fixing Natasha with a glare as the other woman lowers her head once more and pecks her on the lips.

“Not a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been pestered into sequels before and have something vague worked out for this so if there's some interest, I wouldn't mind writing this pairing again sometime in the future.


End file.
